


The Sky Above

by rothalion



Category: Fallout 76
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:55:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26228293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rothalion/pseuds/rothalion
Summary: Loper, a vault dweller, makes his way home after a long scavenging run.
Kudos: 2





	The Sky Above

**Author's Note:**

> I have about eight hundred hours into the game and thought that I would write a fic for this fandom. This is hopefully the introduction of a longer piece.

The Sky Above

Athos Cyril Bran, or Loper as he was known to his previous Vault Special Security comrades, sniffled, swallowed, and spit off to the left. The water, left in his battered aluminum canteen, was rank, and the metallic aftertaste clung to the sides of his tongue. Purifying might make it safe to consume, but the process and storage methods did little toward improving taste. In front of him stretched several klicks of radiation ravaged, dust and debris strewn toxic wasteland. He’d dropped down out of the forested mountains just east of the Crosshair, on his way to Grafton Train Station, and was doing a brief overwatch, before starting to cross the Toxic Valley. It had been a good salvage run, and Loper was anxious to unload his wares before heading back into the forest and home.

After two long weeks out on the trail scavenging, Loper was ready to get home and relax, well as much as relaxation was possible, in his tree shrouded camp. Taking out his binoculars the thirty year old scanned the low ground. Nothing stirred to the east, except small eddies of dust kicked up in the arid evening breeze. Scanning west, though, he saw some motion. A small group of scavengers, four by the looks of it, was inching their way along of the dry valley, sticking close to the forest’s edge. He shook his head. Would they ever learn? Their current course would take them straight below the Crosshair, and Loper doubted they’d be able to defend themselves. Fools weren’t his problem, though. Encumbered like he was, he’d never make it in time to intercept them, anyway. 

Stowing the binocs Loper settled back leaning his full pack against the large boulder behind him. Night was rapidly falling. The darkness no longer bothered him, so traveling in it was not a concern. He had learned to adjust and adapt to whatever life after reclamation threw at him. There was nothing in the dark that was not in the day, his father had instructed long ago. All that mattered was dealing with the threat accordingly. Exiting the vault, even with his training as a Vault Special Security Soldier, had been a great shock, and he’d struggled to control his anxiety. Having the sky above him and the vast wall-less world around him was terrifying. The outside world was all so huge and borderless. The Vault instructors had warned the recruits of this possible reaction and had provided virtual simulations. Some had even been prepared by his lead Vault Tec scientist mother, to prepare them. Regardless, standing in the open for the first time under the star filled sky had terrified the soldier. This was why he preferred living the forest. The dense tree cover offered a sense of being closed in by walls, living walls but walls all the same. It was, he knew, a false sense of security. None the less, after several interim camp sites around Appalachia, he found himself returning to the forest area just north of the vault. Security wasn’t the only reason for his love of that particular forest area, and Loper frowned at the unbidden thought. Vault 76 was an anchor point for his shattered family, and a part of him still held out hope that his father, a soldier in the Army, might find his way back from the battlefields of Anchorage and rendezvous there as he’d promised him and his missing mother so long ago. 

Pushing the memory and childish, foolish hope aside, he reached into his right leg cargo pocket, took out some Radstag jerky and tore a chunk off with his teeth. The flavor did little to mask the after taste of the water. It was the last of his food. He’d need to spend some caps in Grafton for enough to tide him over until he could hunt again. Razorgrain, corn and vegetable soups, cooked with his camp’s produce, never adequately staunched his hunger. He burned too many calories, and having been Vault Special Security, with priority access, his metabolism was used to having plenty of extra calories available. Even a year after reclamation day, he still had not adjusted to living on short rations. The thought of fresh meat made his stomach grumble, and Loper frowned. Game had been scarce recently, and he worried that something was interfering with the already fragile balance of the devastated region. Life was hard enough. They didn’t need another natural or man made event culling off what little food there was left. Sighing he pushed up off of the dusty ground and continued plodding toward the station.


End file.
